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#see the hot wings incident
motimatcha · 4 months
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miss you
hazbin hotel Adam x fem!reader
what happens to Adam when you go away for a long time?
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Adam really depends on how much attention you give him. As a man who was abandoned by two wives for a "duck" and as a man who was clearly abandoned in subsequent relationships (which most likely were), your attention and confirmation that you are not going anywhere is very important to him.
Adam will probably never admit it, but he gets very worried if he doesn't see you for most of his day. Moreover, you don’t have to have any contact with each other, if Adam just sees you a couple of times a day and you pay your attention to him, he will be more than calm.
And therefore, the information that you will have to leave heaven for two whole weeks, just because you need to start teaching people on the true path, on the righteous path, did not make him happy at all. Most likely, there was a whole scene where Adam tried, if not to beg you to stay, then at least to go with you. He was ultimately not allowed.
Adam, of course, accompanies you (along with Lute, to whom you give instructions on how to deal with your man). He wants to enjoy his last moments with you before the long days of waiting for your return begin. His hands never stop touching your body: constantly holding your hand, intertwining your fingers, putting his hand on your waist, touching your wings, stroking your hair, kissing and all that - he wants to remember the feeling of your body, taste and voice for the entire time while you're gone.
It holds up relatively well. At first. Over time, it becomes noticeable to everyone how his character is deteriorating, it becomes even worse until the moment of your relationship, which is an indicator and a wake-up call for other angels. Everything reminded him of you, especially being in your common home (not surprising): your things, photographs, smell. Adam, at first, even out of habit, sets the table for two, before remembering that you are temporarily absent. Your portion goes to Lute, who feels awkward.
Perhaps the climax was when Adam decided to take up his work as the leader of the exorcists. He needed at least something to prevent obsessive thoughts from entering his head, and due to the fact that the seraphim refused to provide him with any information about you, these thoughts visit him quite often. Adam locks himself in his office and finally touches the papers and documents that required his attention.
He spends his time working from early morning until late evening, sometimes simply spending the night in his office. Adam becomes nervous, tense and angry with every matter that he cannot solve due to his hot-tempered nature, since some decisions required a sensitive attitude and could not be solved with a snap of his fingers. Usually he asked for your help or advice, but due to your absence, he had to turn to Lute, who was also not known for her kindness and gentleness of character.
Adam begins to get annoyed by other angels, especially the happy angels or couples that he meets here and there. "Why are they so happy?" — flashes through his head, or: “Everyone is deliberately getting on my nerves?!”. At some point, Adam breaks down. This probably happened in his office, when some angel handed him a new stack of documents and raised the topic of your absence.
Lute, who was returning to Adam’s office, found a picture of a frightened angel lying on the floor, and Adam bending over him and almost growling at him to get out. After this incident, the angels try to tiptoe around Adam, not look in his direction and not breathe, and God is a witness to whoever upsets Adam’s fragile mental balance. From now on, all matters are transferred personally to Lute, so that she can take everything to Adam.
The angels begin to mentally count the days until your return so that this nightmare ends.
At the end of the last day, when the sky turned a shade of scarlet, as if bursting into flame, a golden portal opened in the sky testified that the angels sent to earth were returning. The rising wind pulled the curly clouds inward, which is why at first it was impossible to say for sure which of the angels appeared in heaven first.
Lute stood in the front row among those awaiting the return of their loved ones. It would be more accurate to say that she was floating almost a couple of meters from the portal, which was slowly distorting space to create a stable corridor between two dimensions. She needed to meet with you as soon as possible while Adam is in a meeting where he is 100% likely to be reprimanded for his behavior over the past two weeks.
— Lute? — sincere surprise is heard in your voice when you leave the portal and see her, and not Adam. — And where?..
— It’s because of him that we need to hurry.
Lute extends his hand to you, which you immediately take. The angel exorcist pulls you along, causing you to jerk forward sharply at first, but in time you begin to flap your own wings, trying to keep up with the girl.
During these two weeks among people, you forgot how powerful exorcist angels are.
You can't help but notice how some angels accompany you with looks of encouragement, looks of relief. You can only wonder what this is connected with, but Adam will definitely be the main figure in this matter. It was suspiciously quiet in parliament, only the rustling of papers, the fluttering of wings, and barely audible whispers coming from the offices behind the high doors. Initially, it was suspicious that Lute brought you here, and not to your home or Adam’s home, and only when approaching his office did you clearly see this certain line, an exclusion zone, where there is not a single ascended soul except you and Lute.
— Adam is now at a meeting, — Lute informs you and, taking out the keys, opens the door to the office, — Please wait for him here.
Lute's voice was full of unspoken pleas and a little panic, as if something terrible would happen if you left. Perhaps Lute’s fears were not so far from the truth, because who knows what Adam will do if he doesn’t see you today; he already missed the opportunity to meet you first. Lute leaves, apparently after Adam, so that he does not waste his time searching for you near the portal to Earth.
Adam's office greets you with darkness, illuminated by light from the crack under the door. The room is hot and stuffy, and there is a sour taste; you doubt that Adam ventilated his own office or did it very rarely. The room was surprisingly tidy and the mountain of documents that was on the table during your last visit was missing, indicating that there was work. Having spread your wings, you fly up to the thickly curtained window to not only let the light of the setting sun into the room, but also to give way to the fresh evening air.
Fingers pull the string and the curtains part to the sides, raising clouds of dust from the windowsill. It immediately becomes lighter, warmer and more comfortable, even a certain atmosphere of romance and mystery creeps in. You pull the handles of the windows, allowing them to creak open and immediately a cool breeze slid over your body, ruffling your hair and feathers of your wings. Until Adam's hot hands touched your waist.
— Hi Adam, — you say and turn in his arms so you’re face to face. — Well, what have you already done?
Adam's grip only became stronger on your waist, but not yet so pressing as to cut off your access to oxygen. Adam, like a cat or dog that was starving for the attention of its beloved owner, wanted to be as close to you as possible, to occupy all your thoughts - a selfish desire to be your only priority. His hand takes your wrist to bring it to his face and rub against your palm, tickling the sensitive skin with the stubble that has begun to grow. Adam looked really tired, as evidenced not only by the dark circles under his eyes, but also by his slow, inhibited actions.
— Sweet tits, who do you even think I am?.. And in general, I really missed my beauty, who left her beloved guy for two weeks. Do you know how I suffered for you?
Looking around his office again and remembering the looks that accompanied you from the other angels, you could imagine the scale of the tragedy that Adam caused every day. And it was honestly and sincerely funny, even a little sweet; a laugh escapes your lips, causing Adam to smile as well before scooping you up in his arms and turning to face his desk, setting you down on the dark wooden surface.
— Next time I’ll go with you, wherever it may be, — Adam promised you with a threat, and then his smile turns from gentle to anticipatory. The fingers on your sides dig deeper into your skin and pull you towards the edge of the table, causing you to wrap your legs around his body and feel his growing erection. — And now you have to take care of the fact that you abandoned me for two weeks.
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ozzgin · 6 months
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Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)
Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
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You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.
The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.
One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.
"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.
"We could even go on a trip around New Year."
Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 
"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 
"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 
"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 
"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."
You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:
"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."
The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.
He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.
As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.
On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?
Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.
"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 
"Huh?"
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."
"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 
"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."
"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.
Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 
"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 
Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."
You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 
Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 
But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 
"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"
"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.
Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.
"Did you...?"
"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 
"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.
Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 
"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"
"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."
You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 
"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 
"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."
"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."
Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 
"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"
"'s that supposed to mean?"
"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."
The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 
"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"
The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 
You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 
"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.
"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 
His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.
"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.
"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 
"Attagirl!"
As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.
He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 
"I see Daitou's trained you already."
He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 
"You'll make a good wife."
"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 
"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 
"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!
Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.
And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"
You nod energetically.
"Good, good."
He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.
"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...
Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."
You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 
"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 
How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 
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Soothing Steam
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Azriel & Reader as Parents
Word Count: 999
Summary: When your new babe struggles to sleep through the night, you finally resort to taking a hot shower with your babe. Azriel joins you later on to help with soothing.
Content Warning: Nothing sexual, just fluff, but mention of nudity.
For the past half hour, you had been pacing through the townhouse, your baby wailing incessantly in your arms. You had tried everything: a tighter swaddle, rocking, feeding, singing—nothing seemed to help. If anything, her cries had only intensified. Looking down at her little face, you took a deep breath, struggling to keep your frustration in check. 
Exhausted from the relentless crying, you decided it was time to pull out all the stops. You made your way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, recalling how the mix of soothing sounds, hot water, and your body heat had calmed your baby after a particularly messy diaper incident. You quickly stripped, wrestling with your little one's flailing arms and taking care not to disturb her delicate wings. Carefully, you pressed her against your chest and stepped under the spray, letting the warm water hit your back first. As you gently bounced her, the intensity of her screams began to lessen.
You exhaled deeply as the screams subsided into soft gurgles and babbling sounds. Humming gently, you hoped the vibrations from your chest would lull her back to sleep. Just then, Azriel peeked into the steam-filled bathroom. His hair was tousled from sleep, and dressed in just his underwear and t-shirt, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Seeing you with the baby, he offered a knowing smile. As you continued to gently bounce and rock your little one, you returned his smile, a wave of exhaustion washing over you. 
Azriel wandered over, easing the glass shower door open to run his hand gently over the back of your baby's head.
"I can take over," he offered.
You managed a tired smile. "You were up with her just an hour ago, it’s okay."
His eyes remained fixed on your little one. "Do you think she’s sick? She’s not usually this fussy."
"I’m not sure," you replied, continuing to bounce her. "There’s no cough, no fever."
He pondered for a moment. "Maybe the steam from the shower is soothing her."
"Maybe," you conceded, brushing damp hair from your face and tracing your finger soothingly up and down your baby’s back. "It could just be the warmth and the sound that’s comforting her."
Your little one fussed in your arms, letting out a soft whine before it escalated into a wail. "Oh no," you murmured, quickening the pace of your rocking.
Without a word, Azriel pulled his shirt over his head, stripped down, and joined you in the shower, closing the glass door behind him. He wrapped his arms around both of you, allowing your baby to nestle between your bodies. He rested his chin on your head and swayed gently from side to side as you shushed your baby's cries.
Feeling her father's presence against her back seemed to calm her slightly; her whimpers softened and she began to close her eyes.
"When was the last time you fed her?" Azriel whispered, his hands drawing soothing lines along your back.
"About fifteen minutes ago, but she wasn't interested," you replied, gently kissing the top of her head as you continued to sway together in the warm embrace of the shower.
"Do you want to take her to Madja tomorrow? Just to get her checked. Even if it's just sleep regression, it couldn't hurt," Azriel suggested.
You looked down at your babe, nestled between your chest and Azriel's, her tiny pink lips parting softly as she breathed, finally seeming to drift to sleep.
"Maybe," you murmured after a moment.
Azriel reached behind and turned off the water, then pulled a warm towel from above the shower to wrap around you and your daughter. She let out a soft groan but remained asleep. Azriel hugged both of you again, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as you leaned against his shoulder.
"You’re a wonderful mother," he whispered.
You scoffed lightly, "I wish I knew what to do."
"You're doing everything you can. We both are. She’s just an enigma."
You chuckled, letting him towel-dry your hair. "I thought they weren’t supposed to be this complicated until they were at least fifty."
"I think it’s funny that you thought, with me as a dad and you as her mom, we wouldn’t end up with a moody, complicated little one."
You looked up at him, noticing how the water traced paths down his broad shoulders and chest. He was stunning—the most beautiful creature you had ever seen, and he was all yours. Together, you had created the most incredible little being, with your eyes and Azriel’s black hair, now just beginning to grow in. You carefully dabbed the towel on her tiny, damp curls that seemed to curl even more when wet.
Azriel slid open the shower door and steadied you as you stepped out. He quickly dried off and slipped back into his shirt and shorts, while you gently patted your babe dry. Once dressed, he extended his arms toward her. “Here, let me take her so you can get dressed.” You handed her over, and although she squirmed a bit, she remained asleep in her father’s arms. Azriel swayed gently, bringing his nose close to breathe in her scent—a beautiful mix of both of you that you both loved.
While you dried off, Azriel walked back to your shared bedroom. By the time you were dressed and followed him, you found Azriel lying in bed, your daughter resting on his chest. Her tiny arms and legs splayed out, gripping his shirt. Azriel’s hands were lazily draped over her back, his lips slightly parted. In sleep, father and daughter had never looked more alike.
You approached the bed, gently moving his hands so you could pick her up. Carrying her to your side of the bed, you placed her in her bassinet. She stirred slightly but settled quickly into the soft bedding. You traced a finger down her chubby cheek, then allowed Azriel’s shadows to spin softly above her, creating a makeshift mobile.
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sincerestlove · 2 months
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My Angel (Part 2) - R.G.
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hello hello! so sorry i've been gone for a while - kinda lost inspiration and energy to write, but i wanted to put this out! so here is part 2 :) let me know if you'd like part 3, which will likely be the last part.
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warnings: None; possessive Regina, oblivious, gay and pining Y/N, jealous and kinda crazy/obsessed Cady
hope you enjoy!
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The next few weeks passed without much incident. Regina and I had been spending more and more time together, just the two of us - going shopping, trying new restaurants, sleeping over at her house. Some days, they almost felt like real dates.
Almost.
Halloween was coming up soon, and of course Regina decided to throw a party for our entire class. I was currently in Regina's room getting ready for said event - we only had a few hours before people would start showing up.
Regina looked gorgeous in her angel costume, finished with large, feathered wings. The costume was ironic, given her nickname for me.
Regina easily somehow convinced me to dress up in a matching devil costume, adorned with plastic horns and a pointy tail. I felt way out of my comfort zone in the outfit, but Regina insisted that I "looked hot", so I kept it on. Obviously.
Regina decided to do my makeup on top of it all, reassuring me that it wouldn't be too much, just a little to match the costume. I, once again, agreed, sitting in front of the vanity as she leaned over me. Her face was so close to mine, I could see the pretty colors of her eyes swirling together and the faint dusting of freckles on her cheeks. She looked absolutely breathtaking. I could feel my heart restricting in my chest by simply looking at her.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Regina teased, a smirk resting on her painted lips. I felt myself blushing, clearing my throat awkwardly.
"Nothing, I just...your eyes are really pretty."
Regina smiled, flashing her white teeth at me. "Aw. Thanks, angel." She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, lips lingering for a few moments. "You're sweet."
I don't think I could've been any redder.
Regina finished my makeup in silence, tongue poking out from between her lips as she concentrated. After a handful of minutes she was done, leaning back to let me see myself in the mirror. It actually looked really natural, which I was happy about. Looking closer, I noticed a bright red lipstick mark on my cheek. "Leave it. Looks cute on you."
I nodded shyly, smiling to myself as Regina turned around, cleaning up her room a bit, as people were going to start arriving soon. Not that anyone was going to come up here. If anyone did, she would actually throw them out her window. "You ready to go downstairs?" She glanced over at me, ensuring that my costume sat in all the right places.
"Yeah, let's go."
As we made our way down, Gretchen and Karen were already here, waving at us excitedly. They both looked super cute in their costumes.
"Hi, Y/N! You look so good!" They complimented me sincerely, moving to fix my hair a little so it fell just right over my shoulders. I looked around for Regina, but she had already left the room, finishing last minute touches on decorations and food prep.
"So...cute lipstick mark." Karen teased me playfully, fingers poking into my sides. Gretchen smirked. I rolled your eyes at the pair's teasing, hand instinctively moving to touch the mark, making sure not to smear it.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up, you two." I flipped them off jokingly, allowing them to drag me into the living room to set up the playlist for the night.
As the sunlight disappeared, people began flooding into the house, music pulsing through the speakers. I still hadn't seen Regina since earlier, a sad pang thrumming in my chest. I was sure she was just being a good party host, but another part of me felt like maybe she didn't want to spend time with me.
Karen made sure I had a drink in my hand to sip on throughout the night, and after a good while I felt myself start to loosen up a bit. Karen pulled me into the middle of the room, dancing to a song I had heard on the radio a few times, but couldn't possibly name.
It felt nice to relax and have fun for once, not thinking about schoolwork or responsibilities. The song was almost over, when I faintly heard someone calling my name. I looked around confused, until my eyes landed on someone in an actual scary looking costume. The girl waved at me, taking out her fake teeth to smile at me.
It was Cady.
Yikes.
I waved back reluctantly, turning my back on her to see Karen already cringing. "Why is she here?" She whispered-yelled. I shrugged, genuinely not knowing. Regina definitely didn't invite her. Karen continued, "You should be careful, Y/N."
I looked at her, confused. "Why?"
"'Cause she has a huge crush on you."
I laughed nervously, glancing over my shoulder to see Cady trying to push her way through the crowd toward me. Fuck. "Really?"
Karen nodded, eyes looking at me with sympathy. "Be careful, okay? I'll be right back, Gretchen is bitching about Jason again. He brought some other girl with him." I didn't want her to leave me alone, but I reluctantly let her go, hoping that I could get away before Cady reached me.
I couldn't.
"Y/N, hi!" I turned around, almost jumping out of my skin at Cady's costume. She looked even scarier up close, dark makeup and fake blood all over her face.
"Hi, Cady."
"Wow, you look great tonight." Her eyes wandered along my body, an immediate feeling of discomfort rushing through my veins. I didn't like the way she looked at me.
"Um...thanks. Your costume is...cool."
Cady lit up excitedly, smiling from ear to ear. "Really? You think so? I actually made it myself." I nodded at her ramble, glancing nervously around the room to see if I could spot Regina. I didn't see her or her gigantic wings anywhere.
"Do you want to dance? I love this song." Looking back at Cady, I noticed she had moved closer to me. I stumbled backwards in shock, apologizing to a girl from my Geography class that I bumped into.
"Oh, uh...I was actually just going to use the bathroom. I'll...be right back." Shooting her a nervous smile, I shoved my way through the crowd, thankfully close to the stairs. I made my way up and into Regina's room, breathing a sigh of relief as the door shut behind me.
Was she always so...weird?
"Hey, angel." An unexpected voice spooked me, looking over at the bed to see Regina sitting comfortably on it, eyebrows raised at me curiously. She must've noticed my anxious state because she stood up and walked over, cupping my face in her hands. "You okay?" I nodded, falling into her arms, almost knocking her over.
I just needed her comfort right now. The interaction with Cady left a bad taste in my mouth, not to mention what Karen told me about her.
"What happened?" Regina questioned, quickly taking me into her embrace, her feathered outfit tickling my cheeks. I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it just yet.
"I couldn't find you." I decided to say, nestling further into her warm arms. The blonde cooed at me, running a hand down my back soothingly.
"I just needed a break from all the chaos, so I came up here for a bit." She sighed, resting her cheek on the top of my head. "I didn't think so many people would show up."
I scoffed at her, fingers digging into her sides playfully. "You're the most popular girl in school, of course everyone is going to show up to your party, Gina." The vibrations of her laugh reverberated through my chest, causing me to smile.
"Yeah, well, the only person who I actually wanted to come to this stupid party was you."
I blushed at that, looking up at her to see that she was already looking down at me. Comfortable silence filled the air around us both for a few minutes. "Why are you so nice to me, Gina?" I asked her softly, only a little bit scared of her answer.
The blonde paused, just looking at me. There was something in her eyes that I couldn't quite place, but it made my heart skip a beat. Several beats, actually. "Because you deserve it." She said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
For some reason, the response made tears well up in my eyes. The sight made Regina's heart melt, her hands reaching up to gently wipe the dampened skin, careful not to ruin my mascara. "How about we go finish the rest of this party, and you can stay over? I promise not to hog all the blankets this time."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
~~~
You smiled softly, boldly taking Regina's hand in yours for once, the pair of you making your way back downstairs. You weren't paying attention to anyone but Regina, never taking your eyes off of her, bright smile never leaving your face.
So much so that you didn't notice Cady lurking in the foyer, eyes filling with hate at the sight of you with Regina.
She left the party without another word, stealing one last glance at you. It should've been her holding your hand. Not Regina.
~~~
"Fuck, I am exhausted." Regina groaned tiredly, flopping into the large couch at the front of her room.
I followed suit, falling face first onto her bed, feeling my own tiredness lingering deep in my bones. The two of us, along with Gretchen and Karen's help, managed to push the last few stragglers out the front door. I made sure to call the two girls an Uber home, ordering them both to text once arriving back at home. Regina dragged me to her room once the house was locked up, the pair of us exhausted by the events of tonight. 
Clean-up was a problem for the morning.
"Y/N, you need to take that makeup off."
I grumbled in protest, feeling way too comfortable on the massive bed, the sheets flooding my senses with Regina's scent. "C'mon, sit up. Let me take it off."
"Fine." I complained, but did as she asked, sitting up on the edge of the mattress. Regina was already waiting, looking at me with soft eyes. She could tell how tired I was, my eyes blinking slowly. Luckily I had already changed into a pair of her sweatpants and t-shirt. 
"I'll be fast, I promise." The blonde assured and moved to carefully straddle my legs, gripping my chin in her left hand, makeup wipe in the other. I was far too tired and far too drunk to actually realize that she, Regina George, who I had a big, fat, lesbian crush on, was actually sitting on my lap, gently wiping the makeup off of my face.
"There, see? Done." She kissed my forehead sweetly, adjusting some pillows to allow me to fully lay down while she finished getting ready for bed. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the lights turned off eventually. The bed dipped beside me, Regina scooting closer to my side. She pulled me closer, adjusting me so that my head rested on her chest. Near her boobs.
Her boobs.
"G'night, Gina." I mumbled into her shirt, flinging a leg to wrap around her hips.
The blonde laughed lightly, holding me closer to her. "Goodnight, angel."
~~~
I woke up to a loud bang on the front door.
It startled me awake, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes to glance at Regina's large wall clock. The time read 1:23am. The house fell silent again, until the same loud bang resonated through the house. I could hear it even with Regina's bedroom door closed.
Speaking of, the blonde was still fast asleep beside me, arm slung around my shoulders. I gently removed her arm, slipping out of bed to go investigate the noise.
Was this a really stupid idea?
Yes.
But, I was also nosy and had a strong urge to protect Regina from anything and everything.
I grabbed my phone and put it in my pocket, moving slowly toward the door. I spotted Regina's old softball bat sitting in the corner of the room, decided that would be a good enough option to arm myself with.
The front door banged again. Fuck.
I took one last glance at Regina's bedroom door, choosing to keep it open. Gripping the cold metal bat between my hands, I descended the stairs, eyes flicking back and forth in case I spotted anything out of the ordinary.
"Open the door!" A loud, slurred voice yelled from the other side of the front door, my eyebrows furrowing at the sound. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.
"Helloooo?" The person called out again, fist pounding incessantly on the wood. Taking a step to the side, I peeked out the side window, stomach sinking through the floor once I saw who it was.
They were still clad in their Halloween costume, hair messy and eyes looking scarily glazed over. I don't even know if they realized where they were right now.
It was Cady.
My heart rate sped up, hoping and praying that she would just leave. "Y/N," She sing-songed, the sound sending an uncomfortable chill up my spine. "I know you're in there. I can smell that bitch all over you."
Bitch? Was she talking about Regina?
Cady laughed, sounding way past drunk. She was nearly falling over onto the pavement, knocking over the potted plants in the front yard. "Come out here, Y/N. You should be with someone better. You should be with me."
I took a deep breath, willing myself to speak. "Get the hell out of here, Cady. You're drunk." The redhead just laughed, moving back to lean against the door. She kicked it a few times, the sound making me jump.
"Let me in, Y/N. You can come home with me instead. That bitch doesn't even like you. She's just using you for attention - you follow her around like a lovesick puppy." Cady hiccuped before continuing. "She keeps you around just to make herself feel better. She doesn't give a fuck about you. You think I didn't see you two holding hands at the party? That meant nothing to her, just like you mean nothing to her."
I don't know why I was so emotional, but Cady's words stung my heart deeply. I began to question if what she was saying might have some truth behind it. Did Regina really not like me? Was she just using me all of this time?
The silence that filled the home was deafening. So much so, that I began to cry, sliding to the floor of the foyer. The softball bat clanked onto the marble floor, pulling my knees up to my chest like a child. I didn't know what was wrong with me, but every ounce of emotion that I had been holding in, seemed to all pour out at once. My feelings for Regina, my fears about how she felt for me and Cady being a total stalker weirdo, all coming out right now. So very timely. I'm sure all of the alcohol I had wasn't helping. 
Cady continued drunkenly yelling for me outside - I had to cover my ears to try and drown it out. I wasn't sure how long I was sitting there, but eventually, I heard footsteps running downstairs. Regina entered the foyer, a frenzied look on her face. She was looking for me, but kept her eyes on the door for a beat. "Y/N? Where are you?" She called out, eyes alert and quickly scanning the room. They landed on me curled up on the floor, tears streaming down my face. The blonde rushed over, hands resting on my shoulders. "Hey, hey, it's okay, I'm here. What is going on? Who the hell is that?"
Before I could even say anything, Cady pounded on the front door. "The queen bitch is here! Regina George!" Regina's eyes steeled, turning to face the noise. She grabbed the bat in her hands, standing up and marching over.
"Gina, don't!" I cried, fear bubbling up in my chest for her. I didn't know if Cady had some kind of weapon or something that could possibly hurt Regina. Just the thought of that terrified me.
The blonde stopped in her tracks, glancing over her shoulder at me. She sent me a reassuring, confident smile, that sent flutters in my chest. "Don't worry, angel. I've got this. I won't ever let anything happen to you." She gripped the bat tighter, flipping it in her hands. "Plus, that bitch made you cry. She's not getting away with that."
Without wasting another moment, she swung the door open. I scrambled to my feet and followed closely behind her, peeking around the door to see Cady, completely wasted. It was almost scary. She didn't look like a human being.
Regina fully squared her body to the redhead, raising the bat over her head. "Get. The. Fuck. Off. My. Lawn."
Cady simply laughed, acting as if she had no regarding or understanding of the situation. She was just talking out loud and to no one in particular. "Look here, one and all! The bitch is acting tough!" Cady turned to Regina, a scary looking smile on her face. "You don't deserve Y/N. Give her to me."
Regina's brows furrowed, eyes darkening - there was a look on her face that I'd never seen before. Regina looked genuinely scary. "Give her to you?" The blonde stalked closer, looking even taller than she actually was. Even from here, I could see the vast height advantage that Regina had over Cady. "Y/N is not my, or anyone's, property." Regina spat, moving closer with each sentence. Cady's face was slowly changing, her glazed eyes beginning to realize the grave mistake she made and who she was standing in front of. "She does not belong to me. She chooses to be here, she chooses to be around me." Cady began to walk backwards, almost tripping over the shrubs scattered across the lawn. 
"Me. Not you. You want to know why? Because I appreciate her, I adore her, I would to anything for her, I treat her with the respect that she deserves. You could never give her that." The blonde didn't stop advancing. "You think I haven't seen how you look at her? Like a fucking piece of meat?" She was in Cady's personal space now, stopping directly in front of her face. "You don't know a god damn thing about me, or her, or our relationship. You will never hold a flame to that. Ever." Regina clenched her hands, knuckles nearly white around the bat. "If I ever see you near me, Y/N, or my home again, I will fucking kill you. Don't speak to her, don't look at her, don't breathe the same air as her. You don't deserve to." Regina simply pointed in the opposite direction of the house before speaking one final sentence, voice dripping with venom. "Get. The. Fuck. Off. My. Lawn. Before I call the police and ruin your entire life."
Cady, with the fear of God in her eyes, stumbled off in the direction Regina pointed, thankfully not turning around or stopping. I let out a deep sigh of relief I hadn't realized I was holding, running out into the yard to Regina. She stood there with her shoulders slumped, breathing heavily. The bat slipped from her hands and fell onto the grass. "Gina!" I called out to her, nearly football tackling her to the ground. Luckily she steadied me, holding me snug to her own body.
She was shaking.
"It's okay, Gina. She's gone. It's over."
The blonde broke out into a sob, gripping onto my arms tightly, as if I would disappear. "I was so scared, Y/N. I woke up and you were gone. I heard the banging, and I thought the absolute worst." She cried into my hair. I rubbed circles into her back soothingly, reassuring her that I was safe, nothing happened to me, and everything was fine. I don't know how long we were standing there, holding each other.
It was something we both needed, I think.
"Come on. Let's go inside." The blonde nodded in agreement, taking my hands as we walked inside, together. Regina triple checked that the front door was locked before guiding us both upstairs and back into bed.
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this is the end of the main storyline! i have a part 3 basically ready to go, which is basically just a time skip of y/n and regina's relationship.
i will be working through the rest of my asks in my inbox before opening requests back up again!
thanks again for reading! it means the world to me!
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ddejavvu · 9 months
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Hotch with a totally shy medical examiner!!! He always visits her although sometimes it would‘nt be necessary ... 🫣🫣 Hotch got a crushhhhhh !!
The team notices that Hotch seems to be injuring himself more and more now that Quantico has a medical wing installed. Because of a rather unfortunate incident on floor 4, where a woman had an allergic reaction and no one was able to find her an epipen in time, there's now a mini-clinic located just across the elevators on floor 5.
Hotch doesn't even bother notifying his team of where he's going this time. He simply barrels towards the glass doors that shield the BAU from the hallway outside, but JJ doesn't let him escape that easily.
"Hotch, is everything okay?"
She expects him to say that there's been some sort of emergency at Jack's school, that he needs to pick the boy up. But she shouldn't, she should have expected what must be the most frequent phrase out of his mouth in the past three weeks.
"Fine. I've got a headache, I'm going to the clinic."
He offers no room for his team's replies as he pushes through the glass doors, standing by the elevators and waiting impatiently. His gaze is so intense on the metal doors that he's surprised he doesn't burn right through them, but the elevator finally reaches him, and he steps inside without looking back into the BAU to see his team members staring.
"He's so full of shit," Derek scoffs, "He doesn't have a headache."
"I think he's got a perpetual headache," Reid muses, and Rossi, who'd been working on stirring his third cup of coffee for the day pipes up.
"I would, if I had to manage you bozos all day," The man grins wryly, but doesn't exclude himself from the conversation; for all his teasing, he wants to gossip about Hotch too.
"Nah. He just wants to see the hot nurse," Derek insists, "I've seen her. She's cute, and all, but she's no Savannah."
"Maybe I should have a headache later," Emily muses, lost in thought and toying with the necklace resting on her chest.
"He's gonna have to start finding new excuses," Derek leans back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other with his ankle against his knee, "Maybe he'll ask one of us to shoot him just so he can get her hands all over him packing up the bullet hole."
"And that is my cue to leave," Rossi grimaces, "I don't often like mixing sex with wound care."
The older man pointedly ignores Derek's comment about how that's probably why he's thrice divorced; he's not freaky enough. He shuts his office door behind him and conversation putters out among the bullpen, each agent stuck with a residual smirk on their faces as they get back to their paperwork.
--
"Agent Hotchner," You smile kindly up at the man who steps through the doors of your clinic, "I'm not sure why I even looked up, I should have known it was you."
He chuckles bashfully, hands tucked into his pockets, "I haven't been getting much sleep lately, so I've got a pretty persistent migraine."
"Is it hard, sleeping after a day at your job? The things you see," You trail off, reaching into a drawer at your desk to retrieve a bottle of excedrin, "I don't think I'd be sleeping either."
Aaron's suddenly flustered by your concern for him. He'd intended for his poorly crafted excuse to come across as light insomnia, too much coffee during the day or a scary movie at night. But as you reach out to hand over two tablets of medicine, he meets your eyes with a fond gaze.
"I'm alright," He assures you, his voice soft and earnest. He touches you more than necessary, taking your loose fist in his hand and uncurling your fingers for you so that the excedrin falls into his other palm bumped up against the heel of your hand.
You're surprised your hand doesn't start sweating at how flustered you've become, but you're glad for it. He secures the medicine in his fist, his hand still humming with the ghost of your touch.
"Sleep tonight," You warn him with a slightly weak voice, watching as he downs the pills with a gulp of water from a delicate paper cup stored by your sink, "Get off of any electronic devices for an hour before bed, read something boring, and keep the lights dim. And if none of that works, take sleeping pills, I can give you Tylenol PM if you don't have any at home."
"I'd love some," He smiles, lingering by the edge of your desk, "Thank you, Doctor."
"You can call me Y/N," You avert your eyes to your desk drawer, your voice feeble, "We see each other every day, you ought to be more familiar with me than that."
He chuckles, a soft exhale that sends butterflies with it into your stomach. You offer him the pills and again he takes your hand in his own, only making the fiery heat that burns at your cheeks more intense.
"Thank you. And you can call me Aaron," He takes the pulls from you, tucking them into the breast pocket of his button-up.
"Goodbye, Aaron," You grin, barely able to stop the expression from growing an embarrassing amount.
"Bye Y/N," He smiles back, eyes glimmering with fondness, "See you next time."
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toxicanonymity · 6 months
Text
twin peaks.
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4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol)  a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog
dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump
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“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles. 
Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.” 
“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”
The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.
“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.
“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters. 
“Really?” Tommy asks. 
“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.” 
“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen. 
-
A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach. 
“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face. 
“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically. 
“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”
“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”
“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”
You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.
“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles. 
“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains. 
“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows. 
Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.
“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment. 
“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen. 
“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”
“We’ll see.”
-
The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room. 
Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”
“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.
Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”
“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”
“My new friend?” 
“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.
“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?” 
“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.” 
“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself. 
“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair. 
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—---you—--
Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink. 
When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks.  “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”
“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully. 
“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink. 
One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo.  You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back. 
Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.” 
Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond. 
“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”
“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him. 
“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.
“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal. 
Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself. 
“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”
-. . .-
Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you. 
Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile. 
“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours. 
You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room. 
“You okay?” Joel searches your face. 
You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.  
“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”
Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice. 
“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.
“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads.  There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel
“NO,” Joel barks. 
-
Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer.  You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”
You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief.  Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.” 
You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.” 
“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats. 
You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle.  That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close. 
“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves. 
You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less? 
-
Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door. 
“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth. 
You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean. 
He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.
Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.
“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.
 “Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?” 
You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts.  “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper
“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time. 
“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”
Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door. 
“Wait,” you whisper.”
“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you. 
You shake your head no. 
“Good,” he whispers. 
Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede. 
“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?” 
“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him. 
Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls. 
“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.” 
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---a few weeks later—
"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.
"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.
"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."
"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.
"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts. 
"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"
He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."
You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.  
"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way." 
"Oh yeah?"
Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up. 
"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."
"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs. 
You look away shyly.
"What's got you all flustered?" 
"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.' 
Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."
"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls. 
"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."
You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.” 
Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?” 
Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth. 
“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”
“Joel!" You gently smack his chest. 
“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.” 
"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own. 
----
When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing. 
“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back. 
“You were serious?” you ask. 
“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.” 
Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.” 
Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth. 
Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.” 
You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria. 
“Where ya want us?” Joel asks. 
“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies. 
Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”
“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck. 
-
In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”
You nod and smile. 
“Ready to be even more comfortable?” 
Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal. 
With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.” 
You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He’s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans. 
“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear. 
“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel. 
You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”
You nod, “Yeah.” 
“He’s ready too.”
Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel. 
“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam.  You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so.  His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.
“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes. 
“Take’ him so well,” Tommy  whispers. 
Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs  you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches. 
You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”
“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”
You whimper and nod. 
“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers. 
“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees. 
Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and  Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan. 
“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down. 
Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs. 
“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.
You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front. 
===
Thank you for reading!
: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading
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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months
Note
Oooo Vox! How about Vox with a unnaturally unlucky SO? And it's always been like that and how they died as well!
(Also calling Vox their lucky charm and how he's the most luck they ever had and needed)
Man Y/N really is unlucky landing Vox as a S/O-
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I'M JOKING I LOVE THIS
Vox X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Second hand embarrassment for Y/N, Valentino being harmed
Description: ☝️⬆️
Not Y/N accidentally getting placed in Hell because of some unlucky mix up-
When you first told Vox you were unlucky, he didn't really believe you and just thought you were being dramatic
And sure you've had a few bad luck incidents that he's seen but nothing that really stands out to him
It's not until he's in a relationship with you that he realizes you weren't fucking joking around when you said it
You really are unlucky
In just a day you've somehow managed to trip and ruin one of Velvette's outfits and completely disfigure her model
You caught Valentino's wings on fire while trying to make a sandwich and when you went to put it out you made it worse by throwing oil on him
Good
You broke four of Vox's cameras, five of his stage lights and broke his chair all while he was live
And all that doesn't even begin to cover the mayhem you caused just last week
Somehow you keep running into Alastor and that's a whole headache in itself
You stress him out so much that if he had hair it would be white and falling out of his head
But Vox will be damned if you aren't just the most precious thing in his life, you're too adorable to get rid of
No matter how much trouble you are to keep
You're so fucking adorable Vox isn't letting you go
Whenever he starts to feel himself getting irritated with you, he just looks at your apologetic face and melts
"Sorry Vox...I guess I just need to stick closer to my lucky charm next time, huh?"
Fuck he loves you
"Just-get over here and hold still!"
Keeps you in his lap because it's the only way to keep you from causing trouble with your horrible bad luck
Not at all because he loves having you close and because his heart skips a few beats when you lean into him or because you smell so perfect-
"Vox? Your screen is all hot and glitchy...are you alright?"
He's fine, babe
Honestly can't get enough of you and genuinely believes he can keep your unlucky nature at bay if he keeps you with him at all times
You managed to trip and toss a dozen fragile, expensive things into the air???
Don't worry, Vox is scrambling to catch them all in a hilariously cartoonish manner
You got lost and now Alastor is contacting him and telling Vox to come get his curse out of Alastor's hotel??
Vox will be there and won't even start a fight, the hotel has been beaten up enough by you and your bad luck as it is
He's kinda proud of you for that one tho
He can't even be mad, it's so obvious that some supernatural force is out to get you
There's no way you're just naturally this unlucky
And he can't just dump you, no matter what Valentino says, fuck him
If he dumps you then you'll be at the mercy of your unluck and nobody will be around to save you
And Vox wants to be the one who saves you, he wants you to depend on him more than anything else
Whenever he sees the grateful look on your face after he bails you out of trouble he's reminded of how much he loves you all over again
Can't resist the urge to take you into his arms and rub his face screen on you, no he won't put you down
With him around to clean up your messes, maybe he really is your good luck charm
Vox really starts to believe it
But then your bad luck strikes again and his migraine is back
Good luck charm his ass
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I REALLY REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE 💗
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a-dauntless-daffodil · 2 months
Text
How to react to you longtime girlfriend regaining her angelic wings: a guide by Charlie Morningstar, proud girlfriend of said girlfriend.
Things you SHOULD do with her new wings!
Notice them! (this is easy bc they are BIG and BEAUTIFUL with the soft grey faded colors of an overcast sky right before it rains and gives you an excuse to stay indoors snuggled in soft blankets drinking hot coco together back when everything was simpler and safe which is exactly what getting folded up in them will feel like later and- what? oh right! The list thing, um-)
Complement your girlfriend's wings! Maybe don't overwhelm her with a whole paragraph just yet though. Saying "They look nice!" works perfectly good. (waxing poetic can wait until Alone Time)
GENTLY touch the wings. But not too gently!!! Maybe hold the upper joint place, like a little handshake hello. (the feathers are attached to very VERY sensitive bundles of nerves for feeling out air pressure and drafts and stuff, Vaggie says, but they are TOTALLY NOT TICKLISH supposedly and the reason you shouldn't run your hands across them all nilly-willy whenever you get caught up in how pretty and soft they are is it messes them up and means they need preening again to make flying work right, and THAT'S why she jumps and squeaks about it. She likes keeping things tidy! That's all! No other reason. Noooope)
Things you should NOT do with her new wings!!!!!
Blow a giant raspberry right between them, where the feathers get all small and super extra downy soft, just to see what will happen.
Do the above in the middle of maybe KINDA making out....?
Tell absolutely everyone in the hotel about it directly afterwards.
Thing you WILL end up doing if you complete the above list
Spend the night on the bedroom couch: because you keep remembering the noise she made during the raspberry blowing incident, and giggling yourself and her awake about it.
Wake up in bed anyway: snuggled in your girlfriend's arms the same way you do any time you fall asleep in the wrong place and she has to come find you and carry you back with her so SHE can get some sleep too- only this time she also has WINGS!!! And her wings tuck around you so warm and strong, you'd swear you've felt this every time waking up with her before- only now the feeling is all around you, instead of just wrapped around your heart <3
You're still sleeping on the couch tomorrow though: At LEAST for the first part of the night. Or however long it takes before you stop giggling over hearing your totally an angel very serious former solider and absolutely Not a BIRD girlfriend Squawk.
Things to KEEP doing now your girlfriend has wings again!
Try better next time with the rule following??
Hope you're doing okay so far????
Help her with the preening!!
Stop giggling. Somehow.
Staring at them and spacing out is also okay as long as you say you're "acclimating" yourself to the "sudden change in a core aspect" of your life when someone catches you at it. They won't believe you- But! They'll probably just roll their eyes and let you get back to the staring. Acclimating. Whatever!
Anyway, good luck to whoever needs this! Hope this helps things go smoothly for you, Cherri Bomb!!
Also- Angel Dust, if you've read this far, then PLEASE don't tell Husk. Me and Vaggie PROMISED him not to give you ideas, and we don't wanna get banned from the bar again :(
Sincerely, Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell, Vaggie's girlfriend (!!!)
Note from Vaggie: You're doing great sweetie. And you're lucky you're cute when you laugh, even in your sleep. P.S. There's no 'supposedly' about it, my wings are NOT ticklshkSkk .... P.P.S. from Charlie: are you suuuure? <3 <3 <3
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readychilledwine · 10 months
Text
Slow Hands
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Azriel x Vanserra Oc
Azriel returns from a rough mission very sore. The typical ointments Madja uses aren't helping to relieve the tension, so the healer suggests Azriel goes to see Lyria, a pretty little healer who specializes in massage therapy.
Warnings - NSFW, but nothing is graphic. Accidental orgasm from a service. Some swearing. Unedited. Dearest minors, DNI.
Word count- 2,639
Random author's note - I just believe it should be cannon that the Vanserras give the best massages. They're literally fae heating pads/hot water bottles.
Part Two
Azriel walked beside Rhysand in silence as they made their way to the building Madja had asked Azriel to visit.
The two had not spoken since the incident with Elain, but he could tell Rhys, who had paused hand halfway up to knock on the door, wanted to tell him something.
Rhys cleared his throat. "Do you remember me coming home from the mountain and saying I decided to bring a new friend to Velaris?"
Azriel nodded, refusing to verbally break his silence to his brother, to which Rhys rolled his eyes. "This is her. She is Lucien's sister. Be. Kind. She is doing this for you as a favor to me."
Rhys knocked on the door before winnowing away, leaving Azriel standing there awkwardly. Shock set in as golden light flooded the streets. There, in the doorway, smiling gently was the mirror image of the Lady of Autumn, only shorter.
"You must be Azriel," he stared down at the pretty female, mouth going dry as he tried to figure out how to form words. "Come in. I'm Lyria, by the way." She smiled softly at him and continued walking.
Her home was warm, inviting, and comfortable. It smelled like lavender and something slightly medicinal Azriel could not place. "Rhys doesn't normally have his wings out when we do this." Azriel followed her, admiring her legs and ass in her tight leggings, as she directed him through her home. "Are you able to lay on your back?"
"I am." Azriel was studying her fully as they entered a room with a table centered in it and glass bottles lining a cabinet. Her red hair was pulled into braids and pins with a few pieces falling into loose curls. Her high cheekbones reminded Azriel very much of her mother, and her constellation of freckles lining her nose and cheeks were the only clear sign of her relation to Eris. Her golden sun kissed skin, though, that was Azriel's clear indication of who her father truly was.
All in all, he knew she was beautiful. Truly beautiful, and Azriel felt himself thinking of 100 other things he could do with her besides what Rhysand and Madja describe as a "back rub, but better."
He watched Lyria shift, clearly noting the way he was looking at her. "If you're comfortable, I just need you to take all of your clothing off and lay on that table. We will start with you on your back. Just put the towel where you want it for privacy. I can step out. Let me know when you're ready."
Azriel watched her walk out, eyes glued on her body. Rhys, the tone in his mind was slighly annoyed as he felt familiar claws enter his shields.
Azriel, A laughing purr answered back, Is she to your liking?
You're an asshole. A better warning would have been nice. Azriel slammed him out as he finished removing the leathers and siphons from his body before getting on the heated table. He sighed, shadows slowing down and stilling before opening the door and gently grabbing Lyria.
She moved silently through the room, fae lights dimming as she grabbed a few things. "Rhys said you'd prefer lotion over oil, is that accurate?" Azriel just nodded, a feeling of vulnerability sitting in.
He was naked in the presence of a female related to two males who absolutely hated him. A female who could wield fire as easily as breathing. His only comforts were the sign that she clearly thought nothing of his nakedness, and that his shadows had already told him she had no weapons in her home.
"I'm assuming they explained this to you? And let you know I'd be touching you a lot during this?" Azriel confirmed to her quietly they had. "If anything hurts, or makes you uncomfortable in any way, or you just do not like the way it feels, let me know right away. Is it okay if I start?" Consent. She wanted his consent to touch him. He nodded slowly and felt his shoulders instantly tense as she touched him.
Her hands were warm and so soft. Gently moving along the planes of his tight muscles in slow, long strokes. She was using enough pressure to map out areas of his body that were tighter than others but not being rough enough to hurt him. Azriel groaned as she found a knot near this collarbone. Her hands instantly began working in that area. "Does that feel okay?"
"It feels great." The room was filled with the sounds of water running softly, of animals in a forest. It even smelled like the Illyrian Mountains. The soft scent of magic, her magic, floated in the air as Lyria created an environment the High Lord had told her his spymaster would relax easiest in.
Azriel felt himself giving completely into her hands, melting in her touch, eyes closing. He groaned and moaned occasionally in appreciation and pleasure.
"There we go," she whispered softly. "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He felt his mind drifting as she worked down his arms, his torso, the fronts of his thighs.
Lyria was watching the Shadowsinger's little reactions to figure out where to focus, what areas she needed to work longer, and where the male held the most tension. She was also trying to ignore a growing aspect that had begun to pop up.
She worked her way back up to his shoulders, running her hands below his back, between his wings, causing another moan to leave his throat. This one, though, had her pausing. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she gently ran her hands from the spot they were in and up his neck. "I am so sorry."
Azriel chuckled slightly, eyes opening to look up at her. Her bottom lip had tucked between her teeth. She's nervous, his shadows began whispering to him. She was worried she had hurt him or he was feeling violated. "It's okay. They're sensitive, but that feels amazing."
"I can sto-"
"Please, do not stop."
Lyria nodded, her lip still tucked into her teeth. "You can roll onto your back if you'd like, and are um, able to." It was then that Azriel realized what she meant.
"Please tell me this happens all of the time?" His face was flushed as he threw an arm over it. "You have male clients, this happens all of the time right?"
Lyria was instantly giggling. The noise like soft bells in his ears making him smile and relax. "Of course. Rhys especially. Roll over. I want to use a different lotion on your back." Lyria turned away, grabbing a different glass bottle.
Azriel rolled over taking the time to admire her body again. Thinking of how pretty she'd look tied up in his shadows. She'd look pretty in any position, naked or dressed. He put his head down, trying to focus on relaxing and not his growing need to bend her over the nearest surface.
Lyria moved back to him, warming the lotion she had on her hands, "Are you okay with lotion getting in your hair? You carry a lot of tension here," Azriel shivered as she was near the lowest base of his wings. She was being careful not to touch them, but just the ghosting of her fingers near them was causing his touch starved body to react. It also didn't help that her voice was a siren spell, "through the upper part of your spine and into your scalp. I feel like I can work it all out, but I need to get the tension in your scalp out too, or you'll have headaches all the time."
"You can do whatever you want to me," Azriel felt himself tense back up at the response. He knew he meant it. He knew he'd allow his female to take what she wanted from him without hesitation.
"What a generous offer. You'll have to buy me dinner first." Lyria moved. Starting his massage again at his feet.
"Fuck," Azriel groaned. He heard her chuckle as she worked and he relaxed into her touch once more.
Discomfort hit him again as she began to work up his legs, easing the tension in his thighs. "Is this okay? You are really tight on your legs and hips." Azriel nodded at her question, groaning as she began working out knots in areas he would have never suspected. "Am I hurting you?" Gods no, he thought to himself. "Do you want me to talk to you to distract you?"
"Hearing your voice is making it worse." Azriel bit his lip to hold in a moan as she began to work the other side. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head, smiling slightly. "Not hurting you then. You are fine, Azriel. Just relax. It's just your body reacting. It's normal."
His name rolling off her tongue made Azriel feel like his soul was lit on fire and an ache started in his chest. He began to imagine what she'd sound like with his head between her thighs, his hands squeezing her breasts, her legs wrapped around his waist as he buried himself so deep into her they became one.
Lyria continued her work, ignoring the growing scent of his arousal as the tension in his lower back released. She then made a rookie mistake, leaning across his back to grab her lotion bottle allowing her breasts to run along his body. She said nothing as his wings fluttered and he slightly shivered. She just continued her work.
Azriel was a piece of art, she had decided. His body reminded her of expertly carved marble. Hard muscled cuts from years of training, but they yielded so easily to her touch. Small twitches began to happen as she hit his mid back just below his wings.
Her eyes flicked to where he gripped the soft sheets of the bed as she pulled a heated blanket over his lower half. "Is it too warm?" She knew the scars on his hands all too well, she was hiding her own that danced along her back.
"No, just everything feels really good." His reply was soft, but raspy and deep. She smiled softly as she continued her work, gently going around the lower base of his wings without realizing the stimulation she was causing him.
Azriel was biting his fist under the table as pleasure shot straight to his cock. His body was so relaxed and everything felt intensified. He had been craving touch like this for years now. Soft, gentle, slow. She was taking her time on his back, working out every ounce of tension, every knotted muscle, every single drop of pain he had. His body hadn't felt this good in years, and he hadn't felt relief like this since his last trip to the brothel.
Her hands were heaven on his skin. They were warm and smooth, grazing him with her nails occasionally. She smelled like heaven, too. The soft scent of apples and salted caramel. He could drown in her scent alone if she allowed him to.
He felt the groan slip his throat as she moved to be in front of him and began to work between his wings. "Tell me if you want me to stop. I don't want to hurt you."
Azriel realized slowly he was drowning. This female was about to reduce him to a puddle with the touch of her hands and that alone. He pushed the feeling down. Doing her job, a shadow reminded him.
She worked in silence, noting his soft gasps, whimpers, and moans as she worked the center of his back and sides of both wings. She was finally at the base of his shoulder blades when Azriel's resolve dropped. His hands came to rest on the backs of her thighs, squeezing the plush skin there every so often as she worked the tops of where his wings connected in.
A rough grasp on her thighs as she accidently brushed the ridge of his wing had her gasping slightly, nails digging into his back, making him growl in pleasure. "I'm sorry," she whispered again and tried to back away, only to find herself locked by his large hands.
"That was my fault," he was smirking and pulled her closer. "Please keep going. I'll behave." Lyria bit her lip, her nervous tick he noted, nodding as she went back to work.
She was focusing on working the muscle tension near his wings. She was hoping he'd be able to ignore his pleasure, but as his breathing picked up, his wings twitched, and he moaned for her more, she knew. Lyria knew what was about to happen, but anytime her hands slowed, he gripped her thighs tighter as if begging her to continue.
He was on the edge at this point. He could feel a peak of pleasure within reach as she began working his shoulders and neck. Azriel was trying to hold it in as the pleasure built, but Lyria sealed his fate.
She did a single long stroke, starting between his wings, up his neck, and gently tugged his hair.
It was his undoing as he moaned out loudly, his grip on her thighs moving so he was cupping her ass and digging his fingers into her. His body was slightly shaking, as she scratched his head and played with his hair through his high.
Lyria had her lip between her teeth again. Trying to hide the feminine smile at her ability to bring one of the deadliest males in History to completion with no more than the touch of her hand.
She moved to sit next to Azriel, dropping his right arm over her thighs as she sat next to him, continuing to massage his scalp as he finished coming down, breathing coming back to normal. Once he turned his head to her, she just smiled.
"I know a few places in Autumn you could get help with that problem," she offered gently. "Eris runs a very clean, respectable one. They have males and females. All there by choice because they like to fuck."
Azriel chuckled. "That obvious, huh?" He looked at her. Enjoying the slight flush of her cheeks as her amber eyes met his hazel ones.
"I don't normally have people finish on my table, so we're going to chalk it up to you had a lot of tension to release." She paused, hand still playing with his hair before handing him a towel. "I noticed it building as I was working in your wing bases, but you didn't ask me to stop, and if I tried to, you squeezed my thighs to prevent me from moving. Rhys just said the wings themselves were sensitive. I didn't realize it was that whole area. I am sorry if I've made you feel violated."
He took the towel, cleaning himself and the table as she looked away. He tossed it into her nearby hamper and laid back down. A shadow grabbed her hair and placed it back into his hair.
"He probably did that on purpose. Fucking asshole. I owe you dinner," he finally said. "I'd like to do this again. Hopefully without that happening. I'm hoping that was a one time thing."
Lyria nodded. "We can do the same time next week with dinner beforehand?" He nodded at her, sitting up and studying her face again. "Also, I don't mind if that happens again." She was blushing and tucked her hair behind a delicately pointed ear. "Maybe in different circumstances though."
Azriel smirked, hand reaching to gently pull at her hair, "That could be rearranged."
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suguru-getos · 1 month
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| Bully! Gojo Satoru x F!Reader | Part 6 |
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Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Perhaps an emotionally stunted softie who can’t communicate after used to being worshipped by everyone?
Series Masterlist
Chapter Summary: Satoru has become a little more dedicatedly kind. However, with the recent school festival coming up — that might change.
Warnings/Author’s notes📝: Finally! I wrote this chapter T^T I’ve winged it so bad but I want a cute 🥰 romantic thingy now.
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Satoru Gojo hasn’t bothered you, since the incident where he apologized. This was almost weird, you could go to school without any interference from him. You could be yourself without any interference from him. No self-indulgence from him could deterr you either. Everything is normal, your lunch timings, your classes, your trainings. Satoru is still looking at you though, observing you, watching you… but that’s all he’s doing.
“Alright, I think he’s just being docile now. For real!” One of your friends hummed, just observing Satoru goof around with his friends. Well, his best friend Geto Suguru also has started hanging out with him now. You glanced at him, and his eyes met yours. You could swear it is. If not for his annoying black round glasses. He smiles brightly at you. He is elated to see you happy and content for a change. There is no doubt about it.
Satoru Gojo has a big, fat crush on you. He can’t stop thinking about you & can’t stop but think the what ifs of it. He shouldn’t have been that way during your first meeting — but you just threw him off guard. No one just — ignores Satoru Gojo. Or just, treat him normally. “I see your eyes still aren’t wandering off of her, Satoru.” Suguru’s hand landed on his shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze to divert his attention from you to himself. Satoru sighs, broad shoulders slumped a little. “I thought she had a lotta~ spunk, Suguru. It was fun… until it wasn’t anymore. I just became an egoistic piece of shit.” He responds, eyes glued to you.
“I understand.” Suguru responds, his own brown meeting yours in his usual tender gaze. He smiles at you, calling you closer to him.
You blinked, why is Suguru calling you? Satoru is right beside him. You huffed, gnawing at your lip in a tenderized nervousness & getting up. You walked towards the trash to keep your well-eaten food plate & walked towards Suguru. “Hey!” You smiled, looking at him and then meeting Satoru’s eyes.
“Hello~ Y/N..” Suguru hums, his presence comforting & charming as ever. Satoru is quiet, but you know he’s gazing daggers at you. “Seems like you’ve gained a little weight—” Satoru snickers, and you frowned; scowling.
“No- I mean, you seem- happy!” Satoru sighs, “I mean, your face— was all— dull & bad & now it’s glowing so —” Fuck, why was this so hard for Gojo to just be normal. All he wanted was to communicate that you look good. He grits his teeth, “I mean to say… you look pretty.” He pouts, patting himself at the back for coming up with it.
You raised a curious brow, “You just complimented me? Interesting. I was fully prepared for another argument.”
Satoru’s face falls. There is no way he can undo the series of actions that he did. He looks at you and pouts softly, baby blue eyes humanly dilated at the sight of you and a soft sigh escaping him. “I know you said I should be sorry, but I meant what I said.”
You frowned again, yes you did mean it but you don’t have it in you to forgive him already. You had a whole meltdown because of him for fucks sake. Geto, who had been still and silent through this finally speaks — “What matters is, your sorry is genuine, Satoru. You apologized to Y/N and you aren’t nowhere close to repeating what hurt her.”
Satoru nodded, it was as if his grief was slowly soothed by his best friend’s words. You, nodded too. “I agree. I do trust your apology.” You hummed, and you could swear his dull eyes lit up excruciatingly beautifully. A soft smile escapes you at that. “See you both around.” You hummed, after hearing the lunch break bell.
———————————
A month has passed since, and you have only greeted Satoru in soft Hellos, His, What’s Ups. He has been patient but yes, just as consistent with his conversations. There hasn’t been a single day where Satoru hasn’t conversed with you.
“May I have your attention, please. The Cultural Festival is coming soon. We would need to decide what our class will be coming up with. We would need to decide and collaborate amongst ourselves. Ask our Senpais for help, help them if needed.” Your home room teacher announced.
The class had mixed feelings as usual, some were really ecstatic, some were — neutral. (Like you). Some were annoyed at this extra curriculum. The class rep stood up & started the discussion about it. Your fellow batchmates in another section had taken a play — the basic, Romeo & Juliet. The others had taken Haunted House, your seniors were in-charge of the Party after the fest.
Your class came up with the disgustingly mid idea of a maid cafe. Yeah sure — of course!
“Alright then, we need volunteers!” The rep cheered, glancing at a few people in the class, you included. You volunteered easily. It sounded fun, routine it may be. “I will volunteer too!” You chirped, and the discussion finally ended.
After school, Satoru & Suguru met you outside the gate, their group was hooked together on ice-cream. “Hello! Y/N!” Satoru chirped, ever so cheerful. You softly nodded, looking at him and hesitantly waving.
The thing with Satoru is, you don’t know what would tick him in the wrong way. After your series of experiences — no matter how cool & soft & gentle he is, it’s still second nature to you — to be alert.
Big legs walked towards you, enclosing the distance between you & him in a few seconds. “What’s your class doing?” He smiled, raising a curious brow. “We’re doing a Maid Cafe.” You gnawed at your lip a little in nervousness when his expression changed a little. “Ah- a maid cafe huh?” He raised a brow, feet impatiently tapping the floor.
“Yeah, a maid cafe.” You second his sentence.
“And — I’m guessing you’d be a volunteer too?” He asked, and you nodded. “Mhm, yeah.”
Brilliant. You will be wearing a fucking Maid costume & students from other schools will be eyeing you — fucking BRILLIANT!
“I… I see.” He hums, smiling back. “Well, have a good day!” He walked away with that. Odd, Satoru Gojo was… odd.
Meanwhile, Satoru stomps towards his friends, huffing and puffing. Suguru knows that his mood is a little sour. “We need to ensure they don’t fucking do the maid cafe thingy Suguru or I’ll literally kill everyone in that classroom whoever looks at Y/N!”
Hooked, Satoru is hooked. And now, maybe he’s not a problem to you, but he’s going to be everyone’s problem.
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lizbotw · 2 years
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do not disturb | wc: 2.7k
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Cyno hums in contemplation, the cool water flowing over his fingers. He turns the faucet off just as he hears footsteps on tiles and takes a towel to his hair, counting the four seconds he knows it takes to get to the room.
“Cyno, I really don’t- oh,” you stop in your tracks, right on time. He doesn’t have to turn around to know you’re holding a familiar folder of papers with complaints outlined in red ink. “Sorry. I didn’t…”
“You should really learn to knock first.” He thinks it’s funny because the rooms here don’t actually have doors, just sweeping arches for the great big important spaces, and then tiny arches for less important rooms (like his apparently), and then medium-sized ones for… well other things. Kaveh was the Kshahrewar graduate, not him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. And… and…” He can just hear you bristle. You even straighten up a little judging from the faint shuffling. “And I don’t know, maybe you should put up a sign or something.”
Cyno rubs the white towel over his head slowly, finally standing up from where he’d been kneeling. “Maybe I should.” He’s seriously considering it—you always bring up good points. “Though, I thought everyone knew only my room is in this wing. You’d have to go out of your way to get here.” That and he’s just come back from an expedition. No one bothers him after those.
Thick water droplets and remnants of the desert circle around the drain. You hadn’t walked in on much. He had been rinsing off the sand grains that stuck to his arms and shoulders and were especially annoyingly weaved in his hair, but he’d also removed his armor—he didn’t typically wear much anyway so to see him with even less was probably too cruel, even by your standards.
Cyno turns just enough to watch you under his bangs and nearly bursts out laughing (or, that’s to say, he can’t help but crack a smirk). Even from his peripheral, he can tell his exposed back and arms have caught your attention. If he could get closer, he’s sure your pupils would be blown wide the same way they were when you saw Avidya Forest for the first time. Your eyes dart around—to the walls with sandy desert motifs and his spear propped up in the corner and the window that blows in a warm breeze laced with the smell of dinner preparations, and then always, always they wander back to him.
Are you trying not to stare? He wouldn’t have noticed if you had and yet, it still seems to matter to you. Archons, you were so professional sometimes it made him dizzy.
“You’re the only one who visits anyway,” he adds, line of sight dropping back to the dripping faucet. He rubs harder at his hair.
“That’s beside the point!” You latch on to the distraction. “It’s bad enough I have to walk across the entire palace to get here! Not to mention, what were you thinking with this thing? I’m so sick of reading the same report—”
Right. You would have been in his office today. All alone.
The towel bunches under his grip and he closes his eyes for a brief second. Then, it falls around his shoulders as he turns and walks over to you.
“Is that from last week’s Amurta incident?” Cyno tips the folder towards himself, feeling hot air on his cheek when you huff. His handwriting is smooth on the front. He’s leaning in closer than needed to read it but truthfully the words just swim in his vision. He knows what they say anyway. Typical researcher-thinks-the-desert-is-empty-enough-to-cover-their-totally-fucked-up-experiment situation. (“They thought it was… deserted.” He had paused for a moment to gauge your reaction as soon as he’d gotten back. This masterpiece couldn’t wait any longer to be told and he’d practically run to your room. “But actually I was there. So it wasn’t.” You kicked him out record fast.)
“Yes! This shouldn’t be taking us this long to file.” If he really concentrates, he can feel the vibrations of your words, he thinks. It bristles his skin and he leans back, releasing the document and shrugging. He eyes the wall inlaid with gold circles above your head to calm down.
“So just send it in. Nothing’s stopping you.”
“I can’t! You keep making all these corrections I have to add in.”
The straight line of his mouth wavers. “That was the joke. I’m the one stopping you.”
You deadpan. “You’re horrible.” When he doesn’t say anything back, you smack his chest with the folder, punctuating your words. “You made me write this entire thing and I stayed up all night working on it and you and your stupid, stupid”—two smacks for that one—“brain are just never satisfied”—he blinks at that and mulling it over, he catches the folder (eyes still tracing the intricate spirals and corners of the Scarlet King’s symbol the best of Eremite sculptors had carved out a millennia ago; though, he’s not that impressed by something like that at the moment), and you tug it back right away but stop hitting him.
“And you keep making me rewrite it. Speaking of, why am I even doing this in the first place?! I wasn’t even there! I’m so sick of you. Either let me come with you on missions or keep doing everything yourself like an idiot and file your own stupid paperwork after! It’s not my fault some of the details aren’t accurate. You know, you care too much about doing everything the “just” way. I swear you’re somehow worse than my old Akademiya advisor!” You suck in a breath and Cyno thinks you’re done until your renewed lung capacity proves him wrong. “Well, you know what, I’ve got some corrections to your corrections and—”
He finally lets himself look at you, bored after following the same golden line to its end five times, and immediately hears a rush of blood in his ears. He speaks quickly before he can get tongue-tied. “So, a sign,” he interrupts your tangent. The last word you were saying breaks off unsatisfyingly. You look like you want to murder him and he feels his heart burn from the center out and melt into lava in his chest. Up close, your hair is tousled by the dry heat and your eyes dot orange with the setting sun. “And what should it say? Do not disturb?” Cyno suddenly finds himself missing your fiery gaze when you tear away.
“I mean, yeah.” You’re flipping through the folder now, no doubt trying to find your least favorite part to criticize, this time right to his face. You miss the terrible, terrible trap he sets with his words and proximity. “The hell else would you put on it anyway,” you scoff.
He cuts in before you can get back to business. “You’re right.” Your eyes snap up, eyebrows scrunched in annoyance, to question why this part of the conversation is still going and he catches your wrist to stop your flipping. He can see the exact moment you notice how close he is, how he’s inched in until only the open folder you hold separates you.
Your eyes widen and your lips part just the smallest bit as though there are words on the tip of your tongue and he thinks you look otherworldly. He gives himself a moment to take you in before his voice drops to only between you two. “I think do not disturb would be perfect.” The tip of the report is digging into his chest now. The thought of how painful a papercut that would be in the desert barely crosses his mind.
The gears turn in your head, slowly, as the second meaning sinks in. He watches in rapt interest as your previous inhibitions melt away and your pupils dilate. You’re already looking much more sluggish than before, relaxed enough that he releases your wrist and lets his hand run up your bare arm. “Cyno…,” you sigh—you’re immediately embarrassed and glance away but then at his lips curved in a cruel smile and back to his eyes. Your skin is soft and burning, and he can’t tell if it’s just him imagining it or if it’s really how he makes you feel. He squeezes your bicep lightly, then lets his touch move up over your shoulder and ghost over your neck until you shiver and your gaze turns lidded.
Cyno hums and leans in, not missing the way your eyes fall shut the rest of the way and you tip forward in anticipation. He feels a hand on his chest and fingertips pressing into him, and you’re so soft and warm. He moves to cup your face and your lips bump together, and those careful fingertips against him turn into sharp nails.
He breathes you in and then molds his lips to yours.
The kiss is slow and it feels like you’re taking all of his oxygen, condemning him to the underworld for losing himself to his desires. Even when his grip on your jaw tightens the smallest amount and he presses his tongue into your mouth, Cyno is careful, barely holding onto himself. He doesn’t know if you’re as affected as he is but the tortuous pace is both heaven and hell to him.
It’s you who tips the chaste balance and throws your arms around his neck, never pulling away but always tugging him in. He lets go of your jaw and both of his hands find your waist on instinct, and he wants to be disappointed in himself when he stumbles you back until you’re pressed up against the open doorway but you taste so good there’s no way he stands a chance.
The sensation is overwhelming and his cloudy mind zeros in on the way his bare chest presses to the smooth, silky front of your shirt and how smooth and silky your lips feel and how perfect and soft and warm they are, and how ungodly pretty they always look when he stares. He feels carnal compared to your composure.
So unprofessional we keep doing this, he thinks faintly, buried behind thoughts of worship. Then, he feels a heat burst in his heart and quickly amends it. No. So terrible I keep doing this. So wrong.
And something about pulling you deep into the haze behind his righteous persona is even worse (even better) than anything else he could come up with. The truth has him kissing you harder and you mewl at his hunger—you who’s a way better person than he is, who always sticks to the book, who always gives him what he wants.
Judgment day couldn’t come soon enough.
His hair’s still dripping wet he realizes as the cold drops fizz into nothing between you, swallowed up. Your fingers are digging into the same muscles of his back you’d been staring at earlier and Cyno feels the scrape of the papers that had been pressed between the heat of your bodies before—the whole reason you’d even come.
He bites at your bottom lip, giving you the faintest moment to catch your breath. “Be careful not to drop them,” he mumbles, heated teases brushing against your jaw and just under your ear when he licks a stripe up them. You whine and tug him back up to you, probably so sick and tired of fucking hearing him talk all the time (this is precisely why he does it).
Your hands are in his hair now and he groans as your fingers card through the mess of wet curls and pull them and twist and shove his lips further into yours almost in the hopes you’ll become one.
Cyno has the inkling a sign wouldn’t do much if you’re both going to be so shameless in the open about it.
He’s glad his room is so removed from the rest of the building. It’s still a risk that raises delicious goosebumps on his skin but practically no one would bother coming out here of their own free will or see what was his during a quick walk down a hallway.
Cyno lets himself drown in your lips—you’re more forceful this time, more desperate, and he can see your threads coming unraveled—until you decide you actually need a proper break to breathe and pull back, shoving his face away in amusement when he goes chasing after you.
You’re both panting hard and he finally registers the screaming of his lungs for air. He has no idea how he looks but your image is another hit to his already foggy brain—it’s a sight for the ages, a sage that he sears into his mind and wants to imprint into history books everywhere.
You’re smiling so wide, he can’t look away from the pretty color of your bruised lips if he tried.
A few droplets from him drip down your cheek and he thumbs them away carefully, placing a light peck on the corner of your mouth.
“Your hair’s a mess,” you comment breathlessly, breaking him from his stupor. It’s then that he feels your touch carefully rearranging his bangs. It’s a sharp contrast to your heavy tugs moments ago and makes his heart flip and ache and everything in between in a way that’s both different and the same.
Cyno huffs a laugh. “Let me finish getting ready first next time then.” He goes back in to kiss you but you shake your head, covering your mouth and burying your head in his chest. He hears the giggles that escape between your fingers and feels the faint shake of your body with the weight of them.
“That bad, huh?” He blows a strand out of his face. When it falls back right in front of his eyes, he runs a hand through his hair and shoves it all back, no doubt ruining it further.
You look up when he cages you in, a forearm above your head and the other still wrapped around your waist. You’re beaming when he leans your foreheads together.
“I love you,” you say, lost in his eyes.
Cyno’s fingers squeeze into a fist above your head where you can’t see them. No matter how many times you say it, he’s filled with emotions that have no names every time. “I love you too.” He has to stop himself from saying more.
“But I don’t know if I love you enough to—” He doesn’t let you make the choice because he swallows up your next words. He feels mildly bad that he keeps cutting off your sentences today but when you smile into the kiss he knows you don’t mind—plus, he gets the feeling you planned this one at least. Anyway, his hair can’t bother you if you can’t see it.
You’re the one who pulls back again the next time and the heated air within the confines of Cyno’s arms is palpable. Tipping your head back to the wall, you stare at him with a blissful expression, content, and eyes half-closed. In the silence, only both of your heavy breaths could be heard.
“Mmm,” you sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut as you gather your wits about you, looking so perfect and happy. Cyno’s shameless staring doesn’t stop even when you open them. “I’m still going to need you to look over those reports on your desk.”
He kisses you again, nerves on fire, and when he pulls away you’re both panting again. “I don’t think we need to go to my office to talk about them.” Fuck, he kisses you searingly one last time, unable to control himself, before he untangles from you. You’re slightly dazed and reach out for him again in your confusion, but instead, he lightly intertwines your fingers. “You’re already here. It wouldn’t be right to make you walk back.”
Cyno then pulls you behind him, out of the open archway, and into his darkening bedroom. That sign would probably come in handy right about now.
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yandere-romanticaa · 9 months
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You sat on your bed and let the silence envelope you, the scrunched up piece of paper in your hand giving you some peace of mind but at the same time, if you took the offer, everything you knew could be changed forever. It was hard to focus on anything, not when the smile of that handsome stranger was still fresh in your memory like it was yesterday. A few weeks ago, you went on vacation to Japan for a week or so and it was by far one of the most magical things you had experienced. It was not because of the food, it was not because of the culture or anything related to that.
The absolute highlight of your trip was a mysterious man named Dazai Osamu.
Your meeting with him was accidental but he called it fate. After saving him from a near drowning incident the man stuck by your side like glue, regardless of the dirty looks your family gave him. He proclaimed himself as your make shift tour guide, claiming that who else was better qualified to show you all the amazing sights in the city than a hot blooded local?
There really was no beating that logic.
In the end, Dazai spent the week with you and your whole family as bonus baggage. Whenever he could, he would take you all for himself and have long talks, many of which were an odd combination of silly and soul touching. The man was strange, jumping from silly antics to a profound man who had seen all of the pain and suffering in the world who just wanted to give you some (perhaps not necessarily) helpful advice and show you a good time.
"I see that look in your eyes." said Dazai on your last night in Japan. The two of you were walking and stopped to rest near the river he almost drowned himself in.
How poetic.
You remember turning to him, confusion written all over your face but Dazai's gaze was focused elsewhere. His tone was flat, but not unkind.
"Tired. You look so, so tired."
That summed up your situation quite well. You were tired. Everything, everyone, it was just so much. No matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to be going your way. College was giving you a massive migraine, in your head the upcoming exams were less like pieces of paper and more like massive tsunami waves, ready to destroy you right where you stood and leave nothing behind. Your social life was no better, having lost a good chunk of friends due to either life getting in the way or you simply drifted apart. Some things just weren't meant to be and that was okay.
When was it all going to end though?
When were you going to be allowed to finally breathe?
Your family was of no help either. The constant fighting and shouting, their words cutting deeper than knives. "You are a failure."
"You are not trying hard enough."
"Why can't you just do better?"
Without warning, you felt the soft touch of Dazai's bandaged hand on your cheek.
You didn't even realize that you had started to cry.
His soft brown eyes held nothing but pure sympathy for you, the thin smile on his lips causing the flood gates to burst wide open as you threw yourself into his arms, full on sobbing into his coat as the man said nothing. One of his hands made its way to your back while the other was still on your cheek, the wetness of it staining his white bandages but he didn't mind. He wasn't going to tell you, but you were pretty like this. In tears, broken, weak.
...In his arms.
He did not know you for long but Dazai grew fond of you over the past week. Was it love? He certainly thought so! Or, at the very least, the beginning of love. He wasn't sure what he was feeling but one thing was for certain - he wanted you to stay.
The universe was kind to him, giving him an angel whose wings were already so damaged. The moment he saw you, he knew that all you wished for was to flee and never return, to move somewhere no one knew you and start fresh, away from everything and anyone that ever hurt you.
Dazai saw the opportunity. He siezed it like a true devil would. He planted the seeds inside your head and you had no clue.
"You know, you can always just stay here." said Dazai, a slight smile on his face. "My workplace is always hiring and I'm sure you would be perfect."
Was this even real? His kindness was otherworldly.
Even so, hesitation ate you up like nothing else before. Do you choose to fight your demons head on or will you run away into the unknown? The paper in your hand was a letter of recommendation which Dazai had written for you, all that needed to be done was for you to commit to the bit.
With feeling as if there was nothing else for you to lose, you grabbed your phone and dialed the number that was written on the other side of the paper. At almost lightning speed a cheerful "Hello!~" greeted you on the other side.
With a deep inhale, you said three words which would change the course of your life from that moment forward.
"Take me away."
You couldn't see it but Dazai was grinning on the other side of the phone. With a click of his tongue, all he said was:
"Consider it done."
You hung up, a smidge of relief washing over you. You were more than ready to leave the demons which haunted you right here, in your old home.
And yet, you had no idea just how horrible the next demon which was going to follow you around was actually going to be.
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🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enomane, @ishqani, @satohruu, @bluepeanutharmony
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haunted-moon · 6 months
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Long Way Home [Part V]
[Azriel x Reader fanfic]
Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Read Part 1 here.
Read Part 2 here.
Read Part 3 here.
Read Part 4 here.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Part V
Two weeks before Star fall, we were all having dinner in one of the open terraces as it was a clear night. Nesta and Elaine weren't present, since they were at their former estate in the human world for some work. 
There was the usual chatter and bickering going on, and I was laughing at something Feyre said when my eyes landed on Azriel.
I didn't understand why it was that moment. Maybe it was because I had finally accepted my feelings for him, or maybe it was destined by fate. Or maybe it was because Elaine wasn't there to draw his gaze. Nevertheless, in that moment, I knew.
"Mate." I said in a low voice. 
The chatter died down, the rest of the table's eyes on us. I noticed a slow, weak pulse within me, a bond that connected me to him. I could see in his eyes that he was aware of it too. 
I didn't know what to think, I never thought that this moment would come to be. 
I was still trying to untangle my thoughts when he abruptly stood up. His expression had gone blank. We all watched as he recalled his shadows towards himself as he strode down to the terrace wall and jumped, flying away. 
There was a long stretch of silence, broken by Amren. "What a fool."
Cassian slapped a hand to his forehead. "Az..."
Well. 
I stood up on shaky legs, my face burning hot. The weak pulse of the bond went even weaker as he flew away from me. I had never thought that we would be mates, and what's more, he would reject me like this. Feyre and Rhys were looking at me with the pity I didn't want. 
"Goodbye, then."
I turned on my heel and ran to my quarters. Grabbing the last of my things, I threw them in my satchel and wore it over my shoulder. When I turned to leave, Rhys was in the doorway. 
"Y/n, please. Stay," he implored. "He's just a little confused, that's all."
"Oh please," I tried to walk out but he blocked the exit.
Taking a deep breath, I looked him in the eye. I had not started crying. Not yet. Not here, not now. "Rhysand, if you've ever once cared about me, please let me go."
He stood there for a moment longer, but moved eventually. I knew how to winnow myself to other places, but it required a focused and calm mind, neither of which I had at that moment. In the end, Rhysand flew me to my house in the city as per my request. 
When I unlocked the door, father wasn't there. I lit a few lamps and took a seat at the kitchen table. I wrote him a letter where I explained everything that had transpired and my intention to go to the villa that very night. I put the letter in an envelope and left it on the table for him to see. 
After it was done, I extinguished the lamps and sat there in the dark, the satchel on my lap. Closing my eyes, I took slow, deep breaths and brought my mind to a state where I could focus on winnowing. Soon enough, the darkness felt changed and I was in the living room of the villa.
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
This property wasn't fully developed when it had been passed down to my father. He hadn't taken much notice of it either, but after we both healed from our wing scars, we lived here for many years before he started practising in Velaris. 
In those years, we demolished the ramshackle wooden structure and built a two story villa suffused with maintenance magic. Following that, we developed the surrounding area with lush fruit orchards, vegetable rows and flower bushes. A convenient stream flowed all year round, fed by the glaciers of the tallest mountains. It fed our gardens and flowed into the taps through pipelines. 
I sat on the sofa in the living room for a while, empty and exhausted. The sconces on the walls were lit the moment I appeared, and there was not a speck of dust or cobweb in sight. The night was cold, and the villa's temperature heated up to a comfortable warmth that settled lovingly on my shoulders. 
I smiled, feeling glad to have built this villa. It took better care of me than my own mate. 
Keeping the satchel on the table, I stood up and walked upstairs. In this floor, there were two bedrooms and two bathrooms, built separately for me and father when we stayed here together. Each bedroom had its own large balcony, too. 
Inside my bathroom, I stripped off my clothes and turned on the tap for hot water to fill into the bath. The tub was sunken into the floor, with a window carved into the wall beside it to look into the view outside. After my bath, I crawled underneath the bed covers, where my tears finally began to flow. 
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
Read Part 6 here.
Tags:
@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home
Happy reading! <3
─•~❉᯽❉~•─
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artists-ally · 6 months
Note
HC of being mated to xaden and azriel!!!
{Azriel x Reader x Xaden Mates Headcanon}
Say less babe 😏 definitely a little NSFW, NO MORE IRON FLAME SPOILER!!!! JUST FOR YOU ANON!!!!
~~~~~~~
I think there would be little to no privacy ever again
With two of the most powerful shadow wielders in the world? You can kiss any ounce of secrecy goodbye
They know everything about you
But you like it
They know exactly what you like, and what you don’t
Azriel is definitely more reserved, will opt to stay in on a night out
Xaden will let out that wild side of him only to get you to join in
But only occasionally, during Solstice or another holiday, will the two of them let go completely and rope you into it
When it comes to relationship things, it was a STRUGGLE to find a balance
Being mated to two very headstrong, stubborn, independent and dominant males was hard
They constantly fought for your attention (sometimes physically)
But that was also so hot????
Who wouldn’t want to have the two of them fighting for you?
Anyway
There has been more than one altercation involving who got who, how to share you and all that
They were NOT in agreement with before the bonds clicked into place
And when they did? The world almost collapsed
It was an absolute fury of bodies and tongues and teeth
It somehow all clicked together, like they had done it all their lives. Knowing exactly what to do with their hands, with the shadows
Though their abilities were slightly different, the feeling of them on your skin, on your wrists holding you down was more or less the same
It was hypnotizing
Addicting
If there was one thing they agreed on it was pleasing you
That they liked a little too much
They liked teasing you even more
Azriel was a patient bastard and could hold up a threat like his life depended on it
He would not forget all the times you were a brat. He knew how to punish you properly to get you to behave after
The problem was you just kept finding new ways to break the rules
Xaden like to punish you with pleasure until your body physically couldn’t take it anymore
Forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you could barely breathe
That was his way of punishing you
It had taken a while for the inner circle to warm up to the concept, the same with Xaden and his Wing back home in Basgiath
Everyone at Basgiath was far too afraid of Azriel to begin with to even think differently
But when it all fell into place it wasn’t weird at all
Everything was perfect: the constant spoiling, the constant reassurance that you were the most perfect mate for both of them
The aftercare and simple date nights were what you loved for. Seeing both of your warriors showering you with kisses and praises of how much they loved and appreciated you for all that you did, all the comfort, peace, and security you brought them
There was one thing for certain: you NEVER felt unsafe
Both of them constantly had tabs on you
It worried them sick when you once shut them out to focus on a task, whether that be for your education or simply reading a book
they tore through the house trying to find you
They had been so afraid something happened to you that they forced you to keep some of their shadows with you at all times
It was mildly annoying, but also incredibly endearing
It came in very hand when you needed to get out of a sticky situation
There had been an incident when a male approached you in the street
You tried to warn him to back off, but just kept advancing
Azriel came first
Then Xaden
And the male nearly shit himself
Both of them were a head taller than you, and a head taller than the male
Just their presence made the male run for the hills
You could feel the power radiating off them, feel it vibrating in the air
Both of them asked you numerous times if he had touched you (he hadn’t) and checked every inch of you for harm
And if you got a paper cut or bruise?
It only doubled
Being sick was such a luxury that sometimes you faked a cold just to have them take care of you ;)
At the end of they day, they just wanted you and only you to care for them
Azriel would gladly let you clean his wings
Xaden would gladly let you massage his shoulders and back, kissing every one of those scars marked into his skin
You were never cold when you went to bed
And you had never felt so loved and appreciated and cherished in your life
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tubbybunnysblog · 7 months
Text
The cake incident
A little story, I thought up involving me and my partners
Everyone is nonbinary so can apply to anyone!
cw for: mean nicknames, teasing and force-feeding
I whimper quietly feeling my belly slosh as I roll onto my fatty hip. my eyes flutter open as I hear my round belly gurgle there’s no way I could still be hungry, but I was. Even after the two whole pizzas, wings and sodas, you both forced down my gullet. I look over at you both as I slowly push my fat body off the bed. I creep as quietly as my wobbling body would allow towards the door. By the time I got down the stairs, I was huffing. “Oof…” I rest a hand on the bottom of my flabby belly as I brace myself up against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I wheeze as I finally finished the trek to the kitchen and grab a chair, plopping myself down in front of the fridge hearing it creak under my weight.
I reach into the fridge, trying to find something anything I felt empty I need to fill my belly. My chubby and lands on the cake we had made for a friend gathering the next day. I bite my lip I know I shouldn’t, but I needed it. “just a bite…” I look around for a knife or something close, but there was nothing and I felt too heavy to get up again so I can’t really lifted the cake up to my mouth and took a bite my face getting covered in creamy icing. I moan at the taste we had a really hard on ourselves. The flavor burst in my mouth and it made me want more so I took another bite this one bigger than the last.
I as I scarfed down, bite after bite I failed to notice someone was behind me, until I feel a large hand grip the bottom of my belly “ahh!” my face goes red as I look up, embarrassed, noticing the face of my partner E smirking down at me. “what do we have here? A disobedient piggy?” They squeeze the bottom of my belly enough to leave nail marks as they hiss in my ear. “what have I told you about getting up without permission?” they growl, grabbing my face with their other hand, making me look at them as I tried to turn away. “and what did I tell you about that cake?” they hold my chubby cheeks, making my lips pucker “that I wasn’t supposed to touch it” I whimper, feeling they’re hot breath on the tip of my nose “then why are you down here and covered in chocolate?” I tear up looking at them “b-because I got hungry…” without warning I feel a slap on my plump ass and hear the snicker of my other partner A.
I whine as it dawned on me what’s about to happen. I guess as A takes my hands and ties them behind my back. I watch them laying down in front of me pulling my night shirt down over my belly, fastening it with a belt that was so tired I could hardly breathe. I start whimper and squirm. As I hear start the blender filling it the cake he took from my hands. I start to drool A slaps my belly, making me moan and open my mouth, allowing them to slip a funnel into it. I look into their eyes seeing their sadistic pleasure. “oh, come on, sweetheart you know the rules you knew what was going to happen~” I squeal against the funnel weakly, trying to pull away despite how much I wanted it.
I feel E lean up against the back of the chair, letting me rest my head on their own growing belly. They carefully start to pour the cake shake down my throat. I could hear them hissing in my ear “drink it all down fatty” E purrs as they pour it at a steady pace. “come on honey I know you want to stretch that fat belly” A whispered in my ear as they robbed the top part of my belly, which was beginning to push up against the belt.
I grunt against the tube sickly sweet shake, dribbling onto my plump lips I was only a third of the way down, and I was already getting full. I look at them both with pleading eyes. The hem of my shirts started to roll revealing the bottom of my chubby belly. It was littered with stretch marks and hickeys. As soon as A saw it they were on their knees in front of me sucking fresh ones onto my over inflated gut. They both noticed it is starting to slow down.
E still leaned up against me gently pats the top of my belly “come on baby you can do it don’t you wanna be good? Just a little bit more and then will take you back to bed.” They carefully undo the belt, giving me some more room to breathe. I guess for air as I chug down the last bit of the shake. I hear them both giggle as E pulls out from between my lips “oh my goodness you did so good~” they kiss my chubby red cheek stroking my belly. I looked down, feeling A’s smile on the on bottom my fatty apron, as they untie me the rest of the way.
I burp loudly as they both work together to get me standing. My hands instantly shoot towards my belly as I whine quietly as they slowly help me waddle back upstairs to our bed. I lay down on my back huffing softly. They both lay on each side of me, effectively, trapping me in between them and start to rub my overfed belly, whispering praises into my ear. I slowly drift off to sleep smiling at the feeling of feeling my stomach churning as it tries to digest all of the calories that will make me even bigger.
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teenidlegirl · 4 months
Text
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ 𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘. ❜
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀❀ ˚◞ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 : 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡
. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ while on a quick grocery trip, you run into spider-man again in the middle of a mission. later, he stops by your apartment and you have a proposition.
. ˚◞ ♡ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕⠀˖ ࣪ ༘ fluff, mild violence, mild injuries, pure goofiness, pet names, swearing, spanish terms
❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜
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you forgot to buy extra coffee creamer and pastries for your parents visit in two days. they’re visiting just to see how you’re doing. as the big coffee lovers they are, along with something sweet to eat, you have to get extra coffee creamer and some treat. the weather lately has been a bit chilly so everyone has been devouring coffee. the chances of the coffee creamer brand selling out is astronomical. that’s why you’re rushing to get over to the local grocery store.
after hauling ass, you made it. speed-walking to the coffee aisle, a sigh of relief escapes you. there are a few creamers left, five to be exact. grabbing one from the shelf, you head over to the pastries and sweets. you glance at the various options, debating which to choose. you settle on a pack of croissants. just as you’re about to exit the area, bright colors of white, brown, and pick captures your eyes. conchas. your mouth hangs up in astonishment. oh you have to get them. it’s been a hot minute since you bought conchas and you’ve been craving one lately. without hesitation, you swiftly grab a pack with a dorky smile on your face. you’ve loved conchas since you were little, the pink one is your favorite.
after paying for your shenanigans, you exit the store and begin the journey back home. while walking, a pair of giant wings flies overhead. collective gasps fills the streets as the winged figure flies away as if it’s being chased. that assumption was confirmed when four spider-people swing after it. just another casual day of superhero activity in nueva york. it’s such a norm that you simply go on with your day, long as it doesn’t involve you of course.
familiar shades of red and dark blue swing towards the winged villain. you observe the chase scene as spider-man catches up to vulture. just as he comes into contact with the villain, about to take a swing at it, vulture acts quicker and hits him with a hard swing with one wing, sending spider-man down at a fast rate. a collective ‘oooo’ erupts the street as they watch the hero fall and land the ground with a loud thud, ironically in front of you by a few feet. you flinch at the sight, feeling bad for him. damn, poor guy.
miguel groans heavily in pain, rubbing the spot on his lower back where it made contact with the ground. damn that hurt like a bitch. slowly rising to his feet, he sees you standing across from him carrying two plastic bags in one hand. he frowns at the sight of your stupid smirk, at the verge of bursting into laughter. an annoyed groan escapes him.
“¿un putaso, spidey?” you failed to conceal your laughter in the middle of your sentence.
he grunts in response, rolling his eyes. “cállate. you need to get out of here, now.”
before you could respond, a loud crash comes from one of the buildings afar, making you and spider-man look at it in unison. seems like vulture crashed into a building, faint screams and yelps from afar. the other spider-people rush after him. you look back at him, who’s gaze is still focused on the incident. you watch his broad chest heave and fists opening and closing rapidly. the eyes of his mask narrowed.
“miguel, you alright? we need you here pronto. vulture is about to make a run for it again.” a feminine voice comes from his watch.
oh so that’s his name. you take mental note of that.
“i’ll be there.” he answered, hint of annoyance in his tone. they really need to capture him before it’s too late. miguel turns back to you. “stay out of trouble.” he points a finger at you before swinging away.
you can sense the seriousness in his tone, which send shivers through your body. that man ain’t kidding. for once, you obey his command and head straight home, avoiding trouble at all costs.
     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━
after putting away the groceries, you reward yourself with a pink concha. you sit down on the couch with daisy snuggled beside you and watch a movie while munching on the delicious concha. halfway through the movie, a light thud comes from the balcony. only one person comes to your mind. the corner of your lips curl up into a smile at the thought. you get up from the couch and walk over to the balcony, daisy following you. spider-man stands on your balcony, his broad back to you with hands on that small slutty looking waist of his while mumbling some random words. this dude needs to relax.
“need a chill pill, spidey?” your sudden presence makes him jump a little, making you giggle softly.
“ay joder.” spider-man curses as he swiftly turns around, meeting your gaze with furrowed brows. “don’t sneak up on me, demonio.”
“oh please, you have spidey senses, ¿verdad?” a teasing smirk graces your lips, crossing your arms.
miguel averts your gaze, a feeling of embarrassment plaguing his body. “no, i don’t.”
your eyes widen in surprise. “wait what — are you serious? you don’t have a spidey sense?” you’re actually shocked, astounded by this revelation.
miguel groans, rolling his eyes in annoyance and slight embarrassment. “yes, end of conversation.”
ain’t no way. spider-man, the spider-man of this city, or universe as you could say, has no spidey sense. oh this is amusing, fucking hilarious. you can walk up behind him in silence and he’ll get scared easily like a cat. especially a big man like him, all pure muscle and intimating, it’s absolutely hilarious.
you snort heavily, earning a glare from him that is obvious by the narrowing eyes of his mask. “that’s fucking hilarious, big spider boy with no spidey sense.” another giggle escapes your mouth.
that nickname pisses him off. “i said don’t call me that.” miguel warns softly through gritted teeth, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“jeez, spidey. just messing with you.” you chuckle, mirroring his posture. “why are you here?”
“making sure you actually listened.” he said.
you roll your eyes. “why else would i be here?” it’s obvious he rolled his eyes as well. “so dropping by my place after asskicking is a tradition now?”
miguel scoffs. “no, just a simple checkup.”
“uh huh, sure. just admit you like staying at my place. i know, it’s cozy.” you say proudly, smiling.
god you’re such a pain in the ass. before he could say something, daisy approaches him with her tail wagging. the giant man glances down at the tiny fluffy dog as she sniffs at his feet.
“she seems to like you now.” you said, watching your dog in pure adoration.
“it’s better than her barking at me.” he deadpans, his gaze shifting from the dog to you.
you snort before turning around and walking back inside. “you coming or what?” you hear the tinkering of daisy’s collar as she follows you.
for once without arguing, miguel listens and walks inside. he still finds it strange that he’s visiting you, still unsure why he’s doing this. is this really a routine now? those thoughts come to a halt when he hears your voice. he finds you in the kitchen, grabbing something from a plastic container.
“you want the same last time or something else?” you ask before taking a bite of a brown concha.
those crimson eyes land on the pastry. you can tell he’s practically salivating at your concha, making you smirk. “¿quieres uno?” you held up the sweetbread.
he nods sheepishly. “uhh… sí, por favor.”
placing down your concha on the plate, you grab a pink one from the plastic container and hand it over to him with a plate underneath.
“gracias.” miguel gingerly takes the plate from you.
“mhm.” you hummed happily, closing the container and placing it back in the cabinet. by the time you turn around, you’re greeted with those plump lips again. curiosity consumes you once more. recalling last visit, you refrain from asking. how stupid of you ask such a thing. he wishes to keep his identity concealed and you have to respect that.
“so how was the asskicking today?” an attempt to start a conversation.
“asskicking?” the eyes of his mask narrowed.
“well yeah. you were kicking that dude’s ass. well, technically, he was kicking your ass.” you grin.
miguel scoffs, slightly shaking his head. you swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch upward. instead of answering, he takes a bite of his concha which makes you frown a bit. he found that amusing, wants to chuckle but doesn’t so you don’t get pissed off.
“who was that woman from your watch?” you ask, pointing at his watch with your index finger.
“one of the spider-women.”
your eyes perk up. “oooo what’s her name?”
“spider-woman.” he answers flatly.
your expression falls flat, unimpressed and annoyed. “wow so original, miguel.” a sneaky smirk grows on your lips as you watch his eyes widen in shock.
“that’s not my name.”
“yes, it is. stop lying. i heard her say it.” you munch on your concha.
miguel heavily stares at you. curse jessica for being oblivious. well it’s actually not her fault, it just happened and you were there to hear it. but now that’s just great, you know his name. he internally groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhaled a deep breath of frustration.
“don’t tell anyone.” he states sternly.
you raise your hands in the air. “whoa chill, man. i won’t, promise. i’m good at keeping secrets.”
his eyes analyze your face, wondering if you’re being truthful. with a sigh, miguel accepts it. “thank you.”
you offer a sheepish smile before averting his gaze for a moment. a fat awkward silence fell between you two, only the sounds of car engines and your tv filled the room. a light bulb imaginably appears on top of your head when you figure out a topic discussion.
“where do you spider-people hang out at? you must have some place since you guys are like a gang or something.” you said.
the tall hero raises a brow at you. “we’re not a gang, we’re a society that maintains the multiverse by completing missions and collecting anomalies.”
you look at him with a dumbfounded expression. “wow that’s some heavy ass sci-fi shit. so where is this so-called ‘society’ of yours?”
“that’s classified information.” he argues.
“awww come on, miguel. we see you guys all the time, it’s not so secretive.” you fake pout.
miguel’s eyes fixate on your pouty face, a warm sensation tingling in his chest. those glossy lips and big doe eyes hypnotizing him. jeez — what are you doing to him? why is he feeling like this? plus, the way you say his name. oh lord that makes him feel warmer, that sensation growing wilder. for an unexplainable reason, he likes it better than ‘spidey.’
what is happening to him?
dear lord, help him.
he lets out a frustrated groan, rolling his neck as a few bones cracked in the process. “the tallest building in the city, it’s the headquarters.” miguel witnessed your eyes perk up once again.
“can i visit?” you flutter your lashes at him with a smile, an attempt to persuade him.
“no.” miguel said flatly.
you keep fluttering your lashes. “pretty please?~”
god you’re so annoying but miguel can’t resist those eyes and lips. to be honest, you look quite cute like that but he rather die than admit that. that warm sensation grows. unable to resist your pleading, miguel accepts it with a sigh. “fine.”
you squeal in excitement, slightly bouncing like a dog getting a treat. miguel resisted the temptation to smile at your excitement. that would bomb his ego. instead, he rolls his eyes like usual.
“under one condition.” he held up a finger.
you wait patiently with a grin, the excitement still flowing through you.
“do not get into trouble and stay within HQ boundaries.” miguel states firmly, truly means his words. the last thing he wants is for you getting in danger. anything could happen at HQ and he doesn’t want someone under his responsibility, especially someone who isn’t a spider-person, getting hurt.
“those are two conditions but thanks anways.” you snort, a smile gracing your lips.
he grunts in response, resisting to smile at you. miguel can’t believe he agreed to this ridiculous idea.
you’re going to visit the spider society.
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ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey
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